


Back in Black

by centrifuge



Series: Improbable [1]
Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Jackie Chan Adventures
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Fourth Wall, M/M, Masturbation, What Is Wrong With ME
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-28
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:23:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centrifuge/pseuds/centrifuge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dark Hand develops an interest in hitchhiking. Captain Black keeps buying Jackie jet planes. Jackie might be possessed by Shendu, but only part of him and also not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back in Black

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I'm re-watching this series and JACKIE AND CAPTAIN BLACK ARE TOTALLY DOING IT. They are in San Francisco, the city of sexy man-love. They are "old friends," which goes COMPLETELY unexplained. When Captain Black gets hospitalized Jackie literally loses his shit and starts breaking things AND PEOPLE. It's so impossible that these two aren't gay for one another that I have decided to desecrate this delightful part of my young adulthood and gay it up like whoa, Nelly.
> 
> And some Hitchhiker's Guide because this combination just feels so right.

            The phone rings, barely discernable through the fight-scene music piped in from Jackie-isn’t-sure-where. His pocket’s vibrating though, so he does a triple-back-flip, leaping over Hak Foo when he lunges for Jackie, planting his elbow into the back of the red-headed Dragon Ball Z knock-off’s skull. He goes down with a groan.

            “Hello?” Jackie says, wondering who the hell could be calling him while he’s fighting the Dark Hand on top of Coit Tower over what could most adequately be described as drab, brown, small, and apparently invaluable to Uncle’s current research.

            “Jackie,” says Captain Black on the other end, in that same easy, always-happy-to-see-you-Jackie voice he has. Jackie can picture his face and smiles, despite the fact that he’s running down the stairs and panting heavily. “What are you up to?”

            “Oh, nothing much,” Jackie says nonchalantly, before realizing that nonchalance combined with panting has an entirely different context for most people than for him, which is namely, running for his life.

            “Oh _really_.” Jackie grimaces at Augustus’ voice there. Jackie is single, pretty much a bachelor at this point, and certainly not about to head out into the Castro district for a multitude of reasons, one of which being that archeologist-slash-martial arts expert does not go well with feather boas or leather ass-less chaps. He doesn’t want to think about how hard it is for him to meet educated men who can get past his admittedly limited English, and fuck Black for reminding him of that.

            And then there’s Jade, of course. Nothing gets past her, and if he did manage to find someone to bring home, he’s pretty sure she’d find a way to hold it over his head with threats of telling Uncle. He not ready to be blackmailed into letting his nine-year-old niece get that tattoo she’s been going on about.

            So when Black goes, “What are you wearing?” in a sly, half-joking voice, the extra jolt of adrenaline is unexpected.

            “Uh, blue woolen pullover and khakis,” Jackie fumbles lamely. “You know, pretty much what I wear every day.” He looks around, but the Dark Hand seems to have given up chase.

            “…Hot,” says Black in that same dry, deadpan treatment all his jokes receive.

            “I wear this every day,” Jackie sighs and rolls his eyes.

            “I know.”

            “Look, did you call for a reason?”

            “Actually, I did. You’re probably well aware now that the Dark Hand is abandoning their search for ancient Chinese artifacts in exchange for loftier goals.”

            Jackie looks down at the thing in his hand, which looked remarkably like a dingy plastic thumb. “So it would seem.”

            “It’ll take too long to explain over the phone. Meet me at Section Thirteen?”

            “Give me half an hour.”

 

            “The Improbability Drive?! But that’s impossible!” Jackie sets down his teacup with a clatter and stares incredulously at Augustus.

            “Not impossible,” Augustus holds up a finger, “just very, very unlikely.” He shrugs his black trench coat off and hangs it up by the door to his quarters. Jackie’s eyes follow his well-built form around the room until he realizes what he’s doing and shakes himself, picking up his tea again.

            “That’s crazy,” he says, thinking not only of spaceships but also how incredible Black looks in that tight red t-shirt. What is he thinking? How is that even professional wear? If he raised his arms just the slightest bit his abdomen would show and…

            Jackie is clearly suffering from his monastic lifestyle of late, to let his own mind careen recklessly around the topic of his oldest friend’s admittedly lickable stomach. The hand around his teacup clenches and he shifts uncomfortably in his chair, hooking one foot up over the knee of the other leg in order to maximize the amount of space between his pants and his groin, to prevent accidental tentage. _I’m not a teenager_ , he reminds himself. _And I’m the master of my own body._

            _Yeah right_ , his dick says. _You want to tap that so deep you’d need a chi spell to exorcize me._

            “Jackie? Something wrong? Your face is red,” Black is looking at him with concern, leaning toward him.

            “Uhhh, very hot tea,” Jackie says, gulping it down, scalding his tongue, and jumping out of his seat so fast Black can’t possibly see his pants-related emergency. “I have to go pick up Jade from Uncle’s place.”

            “With that erection? Jackie, eww, way to _scar_ a kid.”

            “Why can’t we just pretend this never happened,” Jackie calls as he runs out the door, snagging Black’s coat and buttoning it all the way down. “I’m sorry! I’ll bring it back later! Thank you!”

 

            Later, Jade safely in bed and all horribly traumatizing incidents successfully averted, Jackie throws Black’s coat onto his bed and bolts the door behind him, turning and slumping against it.

            “Bad day,” he whimpers to himself, running his hand through his hair. There was only one thing that would help him expend all this pent up frustration: a nice, long, leisurely, luxuriant run through his repertoire of Muay Thai moves.

            _That is your answer to everything_ , his dick says plaintively, begging for attention.

            “What are you, Shendu? Stop talking to me,” Jackie says in desperation, throwing off his sweat-soaked shirt and pacing through the moves again before heading for the bath.

            A hot shower sluices down over his head, working its way deep into his exhausted muscles. He rests his forehead against the cool tile of the bath and lets the rest of his body hang into space. Surely, he’s tired enough that –

            _Nope_ , his dick says and springs to life.

            “Bad day,” moans Jackie, palming himself and bracing his left forearm against the shower wall while he works his cock.

            And if he thinks of his friend all throughout, he’s not even going to bother mentioning it to himself.

            Or the fact that it’s probably the best orgasm he’s had in years.

            Finally, blissfully and bonelessly tired, Jackie falls face down on his bed and sleeps.

 

            The phone rings. Jackie reaches to answer it, and Uncle smacks him across the forehead. “Ayieaaaaaah! It is Uncle’s shop!” Uncle picks up the receiver of his antique phone. “Uncle’s antiques? Yes? Yeeees? No. Green? Yes. One moment.” He hands the receiver to Jackie. “It for you.”

            “Hello?” And just from the fucking _pause,_ Jackie knows it’s Captain Black.

            “Hey, Jackie.”

            “Green?” Jackie wonders.

            “Nothing. Listen. Can I break into your quarters and get my coat back?”

            “Oh! Sorry! I forgot,” Jackie stammers, thinking of the night before, and forgetting the coat on the bed. He’d fallen asleep surrounded by Black’s smell and as such woken up humping the bed. He wonders if Black would be able to tell just by the way the sheets are arranged, and decides that as a secret agent of an ultra-secret division of the CIA, yes, he probably can. “Can I get it for you later? My quarters are… so messy,” he says and cringes at his flimsy excuse. Worst liar _ever._

            “Okay, I’ll catch you here around eight.” Jackie makes a noise of assent. “Listen, about last night—“

            “Gottagobye!” Jackie hangs up and turns to leave, but Uncle is blocking his path with his arms folded.

            “You should not be so rude to the man who keeps giving you jet planes,” Uncle says shrewdly, wiping his pince-nez on his vest and balancing it back on his nose. “If you destroyed Uncle’s property in such a consistent fashion you would _not_ be given even _more_ expensive thiiiiings.”

            “Uncle, this isn’t some sort of bizarre courtship ritual in which Captain Black gives me spy equipment instead of diamonds,” he says, before realizing that that is, in fact, exactly what it is. Or would be, if he’d ever caught Black looking at him the way he knows he himself has been looking.

            “Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Uncle calls over his shoulder.

            “You’re supposed to be on _my_ side!” Jackie hollers back, slumping into the desk chair and flipping open a manuscript.

            “I _am_ on your side!” Uncle calls mysteriously, and a small ball of dread kindles in Jackie’s stomach.

 

            He manages to evade Black that evening, which is totally not his style, but again conveniently forgets to remove the coat from his bed and wakes up rock hard, mortified, and trying inventively to eradicate the image of Toru performing a chi spell on Jackie’s cock, which happens to be balls-deep in Black’s ass. The ass-less chaps Black was wearing in the dream aren’t helping, either.

            His eyes cross when the phrase _balls-deep_ darts through his conscious mind again and his hand slips under the covers, barely managing three strokes before he comes messily all over his hand.

 

            “Jackie, can I have my coat back?” Black says by way of hello the next time he calls. “Also, have you been avoiding me?”

            “No, and no,” Jackie says, his mind racing. “I just need to wash it.”

            There is a protracted silence. “Have you been perving on my coat?”

            “No!” Jackie slams down the receiver and fervently wishes the shadowkhan would just show up already.

 

            Jackie sneaks into Section Thirteen that night, unnoticed. He bolts the door to his quarters and sighs with relief, turning around to face the specter that has haunted his entire week.

            …And finds himself face-to-face with Augustus instead.

            “Hey, Jackie.” Black says, smiling in that wry, one-corner-of-his-mouth way. Jackie’s always liked what it does to his face, lending playfulness to the sharp, chiseled look his friend has otherwise.

            “Uh, hey…” He says, noticing that Black is wearing his coat, which, though rumpled, still looks as fantastic on him as ever. “I kept meaning to…”

            “Jackie.” Black takes a step forward, now completely in Jackie’s breathing space, and not only can he smell Black’s cologne or deodorant or Axe body spray or whatever, he can, mortifyingly, smell _himself_ on it too. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

            “I’m sorry,” Jackie sighs. “I have. I apologize.”

            “Apologize, but offer no explanation.” Black looks him pointedly in the eye and yeah, it looks like he’s calling in all those jets. Jackie sighs and gears up for serious awkwardness.

            “It’s been…hard— _difficult_ ,” he corrects hastily, “Lately. Taking care of Jade and juggling research, teaching, travelling, and fighting the forces of evil.” He leans back against the door, which gives him a few extra inches of space between them, and that helps clear his head somewhat. “It keeps me busy, you know?”

            “I know.” Black smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and this time it’s Jackie’s heart, not his dick that goes, _I want that._

            “I know you know. You’ve been a tremendous help to me. And a great friend,” he adds, unable to look him in the eye. “Which is why I have been avoiding you.”

            “Okay,” Black says. “That makes no sense.”

            “I noticed… I noticed _you,_ ” Jackie says in a soft voice. “I’ve been a terrible friend to think of you that way, and I’m sorry.”

            There is another one of those long pauses where Jackie starts to suspect that Black knows something he doesn’t, and there’s a fifty-fifty chance it’s going to be horrible or _awesome._

            “Well, it sure took you long enough,” he says finally. “You don’t think I wear these tight shirts for Kepler, do you?”

            Jackie blinks. “Wait, what?”

            “I can _finally_ go back to wearing nothing but hooded sweatshirts now.”

            “I don’t think that’s going to help with my problem,” Jackie says, his mind filling with soft jersey cloth over hard muscle and realizing that the odds of Black not noticing his erection now are approximately – _oh._

            “Hey, Jackie.” Black’s wedged up against him now, a strong thigh between his legs and an arm slipping around his waist. “Can I buy you a jet?”

            “Have you been speaking to Uncle?”

            “Yes.” Black’s smile-plus-crinkly-eye-corners look turns scorching hot.

            “Best. Day. _Ever_ ,” Jackie gasps out, gripping the backs of Black’s shoulders as their lips come together.


End file.
